Babies
by Aspicientis
Summary: Roy didn't like babies. RoyAi... sort of.


**More than one in in a day? What's happening?**

**Disclaimer: I do not own FMA or any part of it.**

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Roy hated babies. They only had two switches; cry like someone was trying to murder them or poop enough to clog the entire sewage system. And you had to be "extra careful" with them. Roy liked to believe those words weren't in his vocabulary. And you had to be careful with their heads, which he didn't get. It's not like they used them, anyway.

Roy was the exact opposite of those disgusting babies; he was four, practically an adult. He could tie his shoes all by himself and count to almost 100, and in the mornings he could make his own cereal without his aunt's help, even if he spilled the milk once or twice, and he once made a stone cylinder out of alchemy. And when he had a cough last winter, he even took the medicine, without complaining too much.

He also didn't like babies because they got all the attention. Even if Roy showed his snaggletooth smile and gave his really cute eyes that he worked really hard on, babies always snatched the attention from _him. _Why did adults like babies so much, anyway? They were cute, yeah, but they were like drooling monsters in disguise. He didn't drool. He said please and thank you, even though he didn't really want the underwear with his named stitched in it for his birthday from a relative he couldn't even bother to remember.

Well, today, a friend of his aunt's would come over, and with one of those dreadful babies! And of course, he would have to hold it— and he couldn't treat the baby like he did his vegetables. He might get a whipping of he's caught sliding his carrots into the garbage, but an infant is a different story. And it would probably burst into tears even before he could open the lid. Not that he'd want to throw a baby away. He wasn't that mean.

He didn't like babies, and babies enjoyed him as much as he enjoyed them. It was simple, yet no one seemed to understand it. And when he heard the jingle of the bell that hung above the door, he quickly scampered to his room and hid under his bed. Seeing as the downstairs was a bar, the guests wouldn't want to keep their child in it for long. What was their name again? Some type of bird? Roy wished the people had brought a bird instead of a baby.

He heard the gruff voice of his aunt, and a man and woman's voice. He lay on his side, hugging his knees and slowing his breathing pattern. When he played hide-and-seek with his sisters (well, they weren't exactly his sisters, but that's what they felt like to him), it always took them a while to find him. Of course, once Amanda burned her hand trying to make toast, and Madame Christmas was probably smarter than that. He stayed under the bed anyway. His covers were large enough that they covered a great portion of what under the bed looked like, so he would be safe, he hoped.

Thumps indicated that the guests and his aunt were coming up the stairs. Roy stayed silent. He didn't want to see a baby. And knowing his aunt, he didn't want to hold it. Babies were stupid. All they did was cry. Stupid babies. Stupid stupid stupid. He heard incoherent chatter, until his aunt yelled, "Roy! Where are you! We have guests!"

He stayed where he was. He wasn't gonna touch any dumb babies.

"I'm counting to three, Roy."

_No, _he thought.

"Two…"

Okay, never mind. Roy rolled out from his hiding spot and got up, and left his room to trudge to the living room, where everyone was. He stared at his feet.

"Hi," he mumbled.

"Speak up, we can't hear you," he heard his aunt demand.

He looked up and did a quick scan of the couple that came in. The woman had blonde hair and brown eyes, and the man had light brown hair and eyes the same color. In the woman's arms was a _baby_. He tried not to moan aloud. "Hi," he repeated, louder and clearer.

"Oh, is that your nephew, Roy?" the woman gushed, bouncing the infant in her arms rhythmically. "He's adorable!" Roy grinned cheekily, soaking up the attention.

"These are the Hawkeyes," spoke Madame Christmas, looking at Roy. "You might want to remember them; Mister Hawkeye might be your alchemy teacher one day."

"Really?" Roy's eyes shined, excited someone shared his interests. And Hawkeye, that was their last name! He'd remember it now. As the adults started to converse, Roy went across the room and sat on the unoccupied loveseat.

"Here, would you like to hold my daughter?" the woman asked, and everyone turned their attention to Roy. He was about to say no, when he caught his aunt's look. _Hold the baby._ Roy gulped.

"O-Okay," he stammered, and Mrs. Hawkeye brought the infant over to Roy, and carefully handed him it.

"Her name is Riza," she whispered. "Make sure you're careful." He cradled his hands. "There, that's good. Don't move too much or you'll disturb her."

Riza. Even though Roy had multiple "sisters", none of them had that name. It sounded kinda weird. Looking closer at the baby, he noticed how tufts of short and wispy blonde hair grew from her head. She was currently sleeping, and Roy was mesmerized. She was pretty cute. Wait. No! Roy was supposed to hate babies. Stop not hating babies! They cried, they drooled, they were noisy…

But this one wasn't. She was quiet. Suddenly, something came over Roy, and he sneezed. He shot his head to the side to make sure it wasn't on the baby, but with the sudden jolt, her sleeping stopped.

Roy got frightened and instantly looked at the baby. His sneezing hadn't dropped her, but his loud noise had gotten the attention on him. And the baby was awake! Oh no, what would it do now? Cry? Spit up on him? Both?

But the baby did nothing but stare at him silently. Her eyes were really brown, he realized. Like hot chocolate. He liked hot chocolate.

_But he didn't like babies, _he convinced himself, but the wheels in his four year old brain were turning. He was conflicted. Sure, most babies were dumb, but this one actually seemed to like him.

"Hi… Riza." He remembered the baby's name and gave a small smile. The baby laughed and reached a hand towards him, bopping him on the nose. His cheeks turned red. This baby actually liked him! It didn't burst into tears or poop in his arms or anything like that!

"He's blushing," Mrs. Hawkeye whispered, but it was loud enough to where Roy could hear it. It only made him blush harder. He looked down again, and the infant looked back up at him.

"H-Here," stuttered Roy, "you can have Riza back." He lifted the baby up into her mother's arms, and then announced, "I'm going to my room." And he did, with a sharp slam of his door to emphasize his point. He crawled into his bed.

Babies were still stupid, he decided, and shoved the conflicting thoughts into the back of his brain.

**Hope you enjoyed it!**


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